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by Wendish
Summary: This sequel to Seeley Posturpedic follows the life cycle of a piece of Booth and Brennan's furniture. Inspired by the delightful FaithInBones.


Created November 2015 - I don't own these characters or the words made famous by the TV show, Bones. Love them anyway. All the rest that follows is my feeble attempt to keep time in between broadcasts; Razztaztic, Threesquares, and Covalent Bond posts.

A/N 11/15/2015 - I know! I'm supposed to be updating Collide right now. This is the brilliant FaithInBones' fault, who a few weeks back shot me a tweet asking if I ever thought of expanding Seeley Posturpedic. Here is the first chapter of a series of (relatively) short chapters in consideration of her fantastic story prompt. Since it's me, some of these chapters will have sparky bits. Hence the M.

BTW, I don't do story prompts. Unless you're one of the most prolific writers in the fandom whose stories have kept me company for some long days when Mom or Dad aren't doing too well. FaithInBones is Bones fanfic royalty, and so for her, I do this :).

Also, you don't have to read Seeley Posturpedic to get the gist of this. Enjoy!

* * *

THAT FIRST NIGHT

Booth sighed.

He knew the alarm was going to go off soon and wake her, but he also knew that if he moved to pre-empt its blare, _that_ would wake her, too. Selfishly, he wanted to hold her for as long as he could, and so he chose to allow third-party intervention to break the spell.

There was no way that he'd choose to let her go. Not anymore. Not ever again.

His thumb flexed against her back. It was the worst of circumstances, but he couldn't help but count his blessings. Excluding Parker, Booth held his entire world in his arms. Her body was warm and soft and heavy in slumber. Uncharacteristically, she was sleeping solidly, although every now and again her breathing would hitch due to a phantom sobbing spasm.

And every time it did, Booth capitalized on the opportunity to plant a soothing, soft kiss to her forehead.

"Shhhhh." He would whisper into her bangs. "I've got you, Bones. Sleep, Baby, sleep."

And even in her nonconscious, slumbering state, she would nod in compliance.

"I'm going to take care of this." He whispered determinedly. "I'm going to take care of us ** _._** I'm not gonna let this guy beat us. Nobody gets away with hurting you."

His mind raced with the paradoxes of his assertion.

 _Haven't we belonged to each other since forever?_

 _Wasn't it me who hurt her last when I chose Hannah?_

 _And who am I kidding? Bones is fearless and doesn't need my protection._

 _…. But I'll die before I let any harm come to her._ _ **She**_ _could have died yesterday. I can't lose her._

 _And if it was me, if it was me that died…shit! I don't even want to think about it._ _ **Vincent**_ _died and she's beyond shaken. If it was me…I don't know if she'd ever recover. Loving me won't break her. Losing me will._

 _..._

 _...She_ _ **did**_ _beat the shit out of me the last time she thought I was dead._

With that last thought, he chuckled silently and hugged her closer into him.

 _Never again, Bones._

 _I will keep us together._

One soft kiss to the forehead at a time.

He frowned, Vincent's death needed to be avenged. But it wasn't that fact that weighed heavily on his mind. Booth was rueful that his death was _the reason_ she was in his arms.

The promise of yesterday seemed like a century ago.

Yesterday morning, Booth had concluded that it was time. He was ready.

Booth picked her up to head over to the diner for a bite with Sweets. It was a great ride to the diner, full of teases, smiles and naked innuendo. Booth was ready and believed she was, too. So he offered an opening salvo – the suggestion of a date.

A date.

Booth smiled in recall of the nerdy delight that his suggestion unlocked in his partner.

Brennan could barely contain her excitement as she "casually" proposed scenarios for Their First Date. It became quickly apparent to Booth that she had already devoted some time to a little research and data collection on a plan.

They hadn't had an active case in some time. Brennan suggested a weekend away – that next weekend, perhaps - for a short drive down to Great Falls, Virginia for some hiking, picnics, leisurely strolling and some overdue time dedicated to nothing but each other. Almost immediately Booth agreed that the location was ideal - close enough to DC that they could easily get back for a case - but far enough that an overnight stay at a B&B was not out of the question.

Not out of the question.

A stay at a B&B.

B&B.

Booth smiled to himself as he recalled Brennan's Joy at the word play.

 _"I'm not sure that you're aware, Booth" she started. "Not only is 'B &B' the colloquially accepted sobriquet for 'bed and breakfast', but the initials may also apply to describing me and you – Brennan and Booth!"_

Booth had grinned back at her for many reasons – the light in her eyes as she spoke, the adorable innocence of her observation, and of course, that she put her "B" before his "B". All of it made him love her even more, which hardly seemed possible.

 _"We will need to have separate rooms, of course." She cautioned. "I have conferred extensively with Angela and Cam about this, and they agree that if you and I are to finally start down a path of romantic pursuit, that – although we are very familiar with each other and have a high degree of intimacy already – it is only appropriate that I require you wait three dates before we copulate."_

 _Booth turned to her with a quizzical smile. Brennan continued._

 _"I was dubious of their insistence at first, given how historically egregious they both have been in honoring this mos themselves. However, after some research, I discovered through independent verification what is apparently the widely-accepted golden rule of courtship."_

 _"Oh yeah?" Booth asked, more than slightly annoyed that their two best friends had obviously been messing with Brennan's head…and their relationship…already._

 _"Yes!" she responded breathily. "I reviewed several issues of a reference periodical called 'Cosmopolitan' and did some extensive Googling. You know, it is fascinating how many various techniques women exchange about fellatio. I, myself have always found gay pornography to be the most instructive, but there were some really interesting- Booth! Be careful!"_

Of course, the path of her discussion had distracted his driving to the point of swerving into oncoming traffic, but thankfully he corrected in time. And although he scolded her for her inflammatory conversation topic, he was secretly thrilled at the prospect of being just three dates away from the start of the rest of their lives.

Three dates away. He could live with that.

Brennan being Brennan, she did press to secure his visual and verbal agreement of their relationship accord, and so as he held the car door open for her to exit, he recalled having said something charming; something like he was in no hurry and just wanted to be with her. His reward had been her bright smile of satisfaction and an appreciative squeeze of his bicep.

And as Brennan held the door to the diner for the partner, she punctuated their discussion with a final comment, _"adjoining rooms will be desirable, however."_ She bit her lip suggestively as she gawked wantonly at his form has he passed by her.

Unable to resist a hearty chuckle at the now-distant memory, Booth immediately cursed himself as she stirred.

A prolonged hum emanated from her as Brennan adjusted her curl against Booth's body. He held his breath, agonizing at the thrill of curves shifting against his stiff frame.

"Booth?" She mumbled into his chest, her cheek nuzzling against the soft cotton t-shirt while one hand clung to the hem. Her errant pinky hooked under his shirt and glided slowly against the soft fur just below his belly button.

He exhaled, rubbing her back, his hand remaining within the safe borders of the tank top revealed when she removed his sweatshirt earlier that morning. His conscience bellowed at him in a tone reminiscent of his high school football coach-slash-Father Joe. _"Stay focused, Seeley! Get your mind off the girl, we've got a game to win, son!"_

 _I'm just being supportive. No advances intended. Now is not the time._

"Yeah, I'm right here. I've got ya." He whispered, his screaming conscience unable to thwart his lips from kissing her forehead again.

Brennan mewled in appreciation, angling her head up to look at him as more of her riotous fingers pressed against his stomach. He tensed, but smiled down at her, thumbing her bangs back and forth to distract himself from her touch. "Hey."

"Hey." Her non-wandering hand gripped onto his t-shirt tightly.

"You sleep okay?"

"Yes." She considered his question further and then nodded, "Although I don't understand why, I have always found…that when I'm in your arms, I find comfort and solace."

He grinned. "Well, it's a good thing they're attached to me then. Go arms!"

Brennan smirked, shaking her head. "You didn't sleep at all?" she yawned, her left hand now completely flat against his warm bare skin.

It was almost unbearable.

Booth shifted, still holding her, but angling her more onto the bed so they lay side-by-side. "Yeah, well I got some z's before you came in, so…"

Brennan winced. "I'm sorry, Booth. I should not have disturbed you. We both need our rest in order to focus on locating Broadsky." Unconsciously, her hand sought out the scars on his torso.

He fought the urge to squirm. "I know. But you're first up. Your team's leg work will help us find him."

"You still need to rest, Booth."

"I know, and I promise you Bones, I got enough sleep." He smirked at her obvious disbelief, wondering if she realized that she had just pinched him. "And besides, if I had to choose between holding you and sleep, I'd never sleep again."

She chuckled. "That's silly, Booth. But it's also very sweet."

He smiled, his hand tasked with moving strands of hair behind her ear. "I mean it."

She smiled shyly, tugging at his t-shirt. "I believe you."

They let a brief silence fall between them as they studied each other.

Brennan reflected on their history together as justification of her last comment. Seeley Booth was deserved of her confidence. He was a good man, one of the bravest and fiercest men that she knew. Despite the trifling obstacles they took turns throwing at each other, Seeley Booth's place in her life had endured. In that moment, she was overcome with the unquantifiable belief that he would always be there for her. Always.

Booth regarded the woman who had enchanted him so many years ago. She was pale and looked exhausted – her periorbital puffiness was heavy and her nose was still a little sniffle pink. He sighed out loud in admiration - he had never seen anyone more beautiful. But it wasn't the right time.

 _Now is not the time._

He swallowed heavily. "Um, you doing alright? I mean about Vincent. If you want to talk more…."

Brennan pursed her lips. "I'm not alright about his death, but our conversation this morning did help me process some difficult emotions."

Booth shook his head, the back of his rebellious hand straying to brush her cheek. "Okay. Good. Whatever you need though, okay?"

"Yes. Of course. Thank you, Booth."

"Always, Bones." He smiled. With a quick scan to the nightstand, he warned. "So, my alarm's about to go off. It's almost 8:00 AM".

Brennan nodded. "I promised Cam that I'd be in by 9:15."

"Yeah." Booth sighed. "And I need to update Shaw and get her in motion to requisition and debrief a standby TAC team. As soon as we get a lead on this son of a bitch, he's mine." Once more, Booth rubbed her back before sitting up in the bed.

It was at that point that Brennan's wandering hand slid down Booth's torso and into his lap.

Their eyes locked in surprise as Brennan's hand made very substantive contact with a very alert part of his anatomy. To compensate for what she imagined would be his puritanical horror, Brennan sat up as well.

Unfortunately, she used his crotch as a counterweight to sit up.

"Bones!" he hissed.

"Sorry." She snickered, sitting up beside him.

After a few seconds, the tension eased out of most of his body. It's okay." He choked, adjusting in his "position" next to her.

Brennan stared down at his lap with a smirk. "I don't really see what the big deal is Booth. My hand has been that close to your penis before. Several times."

"Trust me, Bones, I know exactly how many times your hands have been near me and my boys." Then he mumbled. "But never, you know… never when we were in bed together. And… never when I've been so…"

"Erect? Turgid? Swollen with girth?" she offered, her eyes still affixed to his center.

Booth shut his eyes, cursing her for the fact that her prurient suggestions were making matters even worse. "It's not you. It's um, you know…morning wood. Guys get this. It's um, a perfectly natural, um, biological…situation."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes and frowned at him. "I'm a doctor of kinesiology, Booth. I could explain _to you_ the phenomenon of nocturnal penile tumescence. Don't worry, I know that I am not the cause of this aroused state."

"Well, no, not is this instance, but…"

The look on her face unnerved him. He eyed her awkwardly. "What I mean is, it's not like you haven't _ever_ been the cause because you have…all the time! And trust me, at the most inconvenient of times…."

"I have what?" she asked innocently, torturing him.

His body groaned. "Um. My guys…you know… _down there_!" he whispered. "They **_salute_** you all the time."

Her lip curled. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh!" Brennan laughed as she reached to turn off the alarm. "That is a clever metaphor Booth!"

"Well, I didn't come up with it…" he mumbled.

Brennan ignored him. "Did you know, some historians believe that the act of… the non-metaphoric saluting began during the period of the Roman Empire? At the time, assassinations where relatively common."

"Well yeah." Booth relaxed happy for the change in topic. "Ask Caesar."

Brennan scrunched her nose. "Yes, well. I cannot, because he's dead. But because assassinations were so prevalent, that a Roman citizen who wanted to speak with a magistrate would have to approach with his right hand raised to show that he did not hold a weapon."

"Huh!"

"Yes. And in later centuries, knights in armor raised their visors with the right hand when meeting other knights. These historians believe that the tradition of the gesture gradually became a way of showing respect."

Booth grinned at Brennan, who in turn was startled by his smiling silence. "What?"

"I'm a soldier, Bones. I think I know a little bit about the history of saluting."

"Oh." She bit her lip disappointed. "Of course you do."

Booth grabbed her hand. "Thanks for changing the subject though. You know, away from my…soldier. With a bit of useless trivia."

She gasped. "History is not usele-"

"Just like Vincent, y'know?"

Booth's sleepy grin struck Brennan with an unexpected memory. Of Max and her mother.

Brennan recalled entering their bedroom to a scene similar to her current setting with Booth. In her account, she could see her father holding her mother's hand with the smile that he only ever had for her.

 _When Tempe pressed her parents about the topic of their banter, Christine responded "your father is doing his best to throw me for a loop."_

 _"I'm just reminding you of why you love me so much." Max teased._

 _Christine kissed his knuckles. "And I really do. Even when I disagree with you. Doesn't make me love you any less." She sighed, a hint of sadness in her tone. Turning to her daughter, she smiled, "C'mere Tempe. You're not too old to give your old Mom a hug, are you?"_

 _Tempe obliged._

It would be less than two days later that they disappeared. It was the last time she embraced her mother.

 _Time is not promised._

 _Vincent is gone._

 _Booth could be killed._

 _Booth looks at me like my father regarded my mother._

 _I love Booth._

Brennan smiled as looked down at their joined hands. She never expected to feel for anyone the way she knew Max and Christine Brennan felt for each other. But she did. She loved the man sitting next to her in his bed.

 _Their bed._

Well, it **_would_** be their bed. They _ **had** _ picked the bed out together.

It was, as he had teased her the day she put it on her credit card, "our bed."

And this past night had been their inaugural time in ** _Their Bed_** together. And if Jacob Broadsky had his way, it may be one of their last. Once Broadsky learned that Booth wasn't dead, it wouldn't be long before the rogue sniper would come looking for him. Or her.

 _I love Booth._

 _But I've given him no proof, no evidence of that fact._

Booth watched as her smile faded and the color rushed from Brennan's face. "Bones, what's wrong? You okay?"

No, she was not okay. Temperance Brennan managed strong emotions like a shaken bottle of tonic water. And her cap was turning.

 _I love this man._

Mouth agape, she glanced up at her questioning, concerned partner. She spoke without any further forethought.

"Booth, I -, I love you."

Booth barely had a moment to process her declaration before she lunged at his mouth. She fought past his bracing and forced him into the familiarity of their mouths joined. His lips, soft and thin and hers, full and searching. A familiar, but under-practiced rhythm took over as the pair traded sighs between their tongues. It was a lovely kiss.

But it seemed over almost as soon as it had begun. "Bones! Wait!" Booth groaned has he pulled away from Brennan's mouth and grasp and out of the bed. "Hold on!"

Shocked and ashamed for letting her emotions jump the spigot, Brennan searched for a wall of reason to guard herself Booth's rejection. "I'm sorry. Now is not the time. This is too soon. I shouldn't…"

Booth held up both hands. "No, you should! _**We** _ should! Let's just…hold on here. Don't apologize. Please don't apologize, Bones. Not for this, no! Trust me, I am not rejecting you. It's just…"

Brennan stared back at him, confused and exposed, searching for reason in his eyes. "But wh-…"

"I've had to pee since you came into my room last night, is all." He blushed, fidgeting. "Trust me, I'll be right back. Right here Bones, I promise, so that we could do a little more of that."

Brennan laughed on a gasp. He wasn't rejecting her. He was done rejecting her. But he was holding up a scolding finger however.

"Promise me, Bones. Promise that while I'm in there that you don't change your mind. Promise me that when I come back out here, you won't have freaked out, changed your mind and gone off to Guatemala or something. No more Guatemala, please!"

Brennan giggled. "I promise."

Booth clapped his hands together in delight at their accord. "Good! Going to piss! No Guatemala!'"

"No Guatemala." She smiled shyly.

He darted to the bathroom, but turned back toward her quickly. "I love you too, Bones. And when I get back here, I'm gonna show you how much."

Brennan sat back against the headboard.

 _Their headboard._

"Okay." She smiled.

Booth beamed back at her before closing the door. "No Guatemala!"

She chuckled to herself as she smoothed her hands over the sheets that surrounded her. The Universe was sending her a message. She would listen.

"Booth?"

"Yeah?"

"Hodgins really is the essential resource in the lab right now. I'm going to text Cam and let her know I'm running late. Perhaps you could reach out to Shaw by phone to relay instructions to her?"

"Um, yeah. Yeah!" he said. Brennan could detect his understanding becoming clearer with each word. "That's a really good idea, Bones. It'll give us time, to um, you know…"

"I know." She returned. Brennan caught her reflection in the side mirror. Her face was drawn, her pallor almost translucent, her hair was everywhere. Her paramour needed to urinate and she needed to rinse the cottony dryness from her mouth.

She reached for the glass of water that Booth always kept on his nightstand. This is not how their friends or the Cosmopolitan magazine would have scripted this. And before their three socially appropriate dates had been completed.

"Three dates." Brennan mumbled to herself as she listened to Booth washing his hands.

"Fools."


End file.
